That is my biological Father. That is his only title that I am awarding him - Biologically he was/is my Father. He contributed nothing much more past that point. He has always been always about himself where I and my biological Mother were concerned.

He created me while he was still in Dentistry school. Their marriage did not last past his schooling. Were they too young for marriage? I know from a variety of sources that they got married because of his mother, my grandmother insisted that none of her sons created "bastards". So that is so not starting a marriage, or a life together with love. 

I have always wondered why I was brought into this world, like really? What a thought to carry through one's mind, constantly. As after my mother divorced the dentist she went onto to marry another monster male. Who was an ex-hutterite. Do you know what a hutterite is? A religion of interpretation of the Bible where the male reigns supreme. Women are way down the food chain. Should be servant to man and silent. Very silent. 

Which is to say that him and I butted heads often as I was a child of the 80's and 90's where women were finding their voice and how! Beatings were mine. 

I left home or rather I was forced from that home via my step-father after years of almost daily beatings, inappropriate touching and whatnot. I had left earlier at 13 but returned and then returned to "meet" my biological father at 19, as he lived in a whole other world - Thousands of miles from me, where I grew up. The meeting was like this - The very first day - 

As I stepped off the plane and was so excited about meeting my Father - The very first place we went to was not my new home - He picked me up in a trans am, souped up to the max, to the level that stereo speakers were even in the doors and sound just blasted as you drove - We screamed down the highway not to my new home but to a bar where we sat all afternoon until I was the designated driver of choice as I sat, almost catatonic in the corner and watched the drunks "perform". 

Up to this point, Father had never had another child in his life "just me" which he steadfastly ignored. As best as he could. Until I wrote to him at 19, demanding that I meet him finally. He said I could come out and move in with him with a ton of stipulations. His house, his rules. I must go to school, university, I must must must ... Rules, rules, rules. 

As he was a "rich" good looking single dentist, the women were many that came through the house... The one I would have chosen, was on the way out. The one that he chose I would never had chosen ever. She entered with the words to me, "I have a daughter, and I give you 4 years to be out of the picture completely." 

I watched gas, gas, gas parties down in the dental offices. Which I never partook of but my friends did. I walked thru one once and everyone was so high off of the dental laughing gas they were rolling on the floor nude and I left. Ugh. 

Another time, my Father was so high, when I returned home from University, my Father yelled up the stairs, as the Dental office was downstairs and we lived upstairs, that he was "protecting me from the Russians that were coming, didn't I see them?" 

He was firing out of the office windows at the street lamps, which in his delusional mind were the Russians that were attacking, of which he was protecting his daughter from. Oh yeah? I phoned the witch, asking her what I should do? Like really? She said, don't call anyone else, as my Father would lose his Dental license, if I did so. What she was really saying was she would lose her gold-mine, gravy train. 

Another time, my Father passed out on his sailboat, having just before passing out, threw down the anchor, but leaving the engine running. So he was doing doughnuts in the ocean when the water police (what are they called??) entered his boat. Finding him passed out in the captain's quarters. 

It was dropped. Of which my Father told me with a proud smile, that the judge and the prosecuting attorney now had perfect dental work. Nice "trade" for his dental licencse to continue!!!! 

I am not saying that through the years I was a saint. I was damaged goods, entering his household. But so was he. 

I acted up in many ways. I spent all his money, that he gave me, what is it called? Oh right an allowance. He threw money at me at the beginning. Until she entered the picture. But by then him and I were barely talking. She just jumped on it and increased the animosity. I was not following his rules. Y'see, his rules included the men I dated, loved and roomed with. 

His rules included the job I held. How I dressed and everything. I broke out BIG TIME. I did the polar opposite of everything he said. I loved my two men he despised. 

Jump ahead - My father in a drunken rage/binge/psychosis? Demanded I leave the home I was renting/to-own from him - Immediately. As there were no legal papers - As it was with my Father!!! What for? I was bounced out within 3 days. What a joke that "trial" was. I was there with legal aid Him with his money and legalize. JOKE JOKE JOKE Money buys you whatever you desire. Even your own daughter becoming homeless. 

I am in therapy. Can you tell. LOL Hoping to heal. Let go of the past. Until it roars itself up and I have a toothache and I have to stand in a NEW dental office and shake. Because of this rolly-polly mind of mine, I now fear dental work on my teeth. 

Ugh. 

I never fell in love, because I was craving my Father's approval. I wish I had had the will to "fall in love" completely to one of the 2 beloved men. Instead I let them go and I wonder, today, still, ooooooooooops? I did it again? 

Another man I had a baby with and my Father stepped in - Before my child was born, and said to the baby-daddy you are so not "good enough" for my daughter. The baby-daddy disappeared fast and I was left alone, due soon. I walked from my Father's world, never looking back and gave my daughter up for adoption and cried. 

Did I seek counseling then? No. Sex was my therapy. And lots of it. But never again to "fall into love." 

I am typing too much. And am going to go for a bike ride. Ciao.